


i'm outside the door, invite me in

by trishapocalypse



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Puppies, Riding, au where they're flat neighbors and there's puppies and cute things idk, idk where this came from
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:22:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2431991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trishapocalypse/pseuds/trishapocalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(The one where Harry and Zayn are neighbors and Harry has no clue how to train a puppy; Zayn does.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm outside the door, invite me in

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a cute little drabble/ficlet about Harry needing Zayn's help to train his dog and, um, this happened. As always, I'm terribly sorry, but the world needs more Zarry, and I'm willing to take one for the team. The usual applies: hastily beta'd, none of this happened, I'm sorry you're reading this, you're all beautiful, and I love you.
> 
> tumblr: @trishanthemum ! let's be paaaaaals. :)

Harry wouldn’t exactly call himself a spontaneous guy; he was more the sort to write pro-and-con lists before making any sort of major decision in his life. When he moved out, he filled up at least three pages of pros and cons before actually deciding to do it. It was the same with going to uni and picking a law firm to intern with—pros and cons and the like. 

Which kind of led to his current situation… He had traveled home to Holmes Chapel for a weekend, accompanying his mum to take their cat to the vet for a routine checkup, when he saw the sign. And Harry had always had a big heart—biggest of the big, according to his mum—but the sad little face of the abandoned Husky pup just _called_ to him. And it was the next day when he was driving home, a little Husky pup named Bucky curled up in his passenger’s seat, when it finally settled in.

Harry had adopted a _puppy._ A six week old abandoned and abused Husky puppy with a scratched nose and scared eyes who was looking up at him like Harry was his _world._ And Harry wanted to be, even though he had always grown up with cats, there was something about this puppy. And, without an extensive pro-con list, he knew he made the right choice.

And he tried to remind himself of that one week later when Bucky was chewing at all of his furniture and relieving himself wherever he saw fit. 

Harry groaned when he got back home, seeing Bucky sleeping in his little dog bed next to a pile of poo. He set his satchel down on the table before cleaning up and finding Bucky’s leash, the jangling of the metal causing the little pup to wake up and let out a happy little bark. Harry couldn’t even be mad—what did he expect the pup to do when he was cooped up all day? 

“C’mon, that’s a good pup,” he said quietly, scratching between Bucky’s ears as he hooked up his leash, stuffing a handful of treats in his pocket before opening the door to his flat and stepping into the hallway. It was barely a second later when he heard Bucky let out a pathetic bark and a whimper, cowering behind Harry’s legs, and he looked up to see his neighbor, Zayn, walking back up the stairs with his pit bull on a leash and a cigarette behind his ear. “S’okay, Buck,” he assured him, reaching down to scratch at his ears. “Sorry.”

Zayn shrugged slowly, walking past Harry to unlock the door to his flat. “Didn’t know ya had a dog,” he commented.

Harry bit his lip because no, Zayn didn’t know anything about him, really; they had been neighbors for four months and they had seen each other a grand total of eight times. It was around the third time that Harry actually got the courage to introduce himself because he had never seen someone as gorgeous as Zayn and, well, it was more than a bit intimidating. Their interactions were limited from trying to get their post at the same time to the one time Zayn held the door open for Harry when he was carrying groceries to the last time they had seen each other, when Harry had gotten in late after going to the pub with Niall to see Zayn and some mysterious lad snogging in the hallway, jeans half undone, and Harry had gone red, apologizing profusely before hiding in his flat. And that had been three weeks ago, and Harry could still feel his cheeks flushing at the memory. “Yeah, he’s—he’s new,” he answered lamely. 

Zayn let go of his dog’s leash, letting him run into the flat, before shutting the door and turning back to face Harry’s pup. “S’wrong with his nose?” he asked softly, brow furrowed. 

Harry pouted, leaning down to pick up Bucky, ignoring the way he was shedding against his good dress clothes, and cuddled him against his chest. “Poor baby was abused and abandoned,” he said softly, pressing his lips to Bucky’s forehead, letting out a laugh when Bucky nuzzled him. “He was kind of a spur of the moment decision.”

Zayn took a step closer, holding his hand out. “May I?”

Harry nodded, watching as Bucky tentatively reached forward and sniffed at Zayn’s hand for a moment before licking his hand. “Think he likes you,” Harry whispered, a little breathless.

“Yeah, well,” Zayn shrugged, peering up at Harry from under his longlong _long_ eyelashes, eyes going a little crinkly at the end from how wide he was smiling, “dogs love me.”

“Not surprising,” Harry muttered, watching as Bucky yapped happily, leaning into where Zayn was scratching at his ears. 

Zayn hmm’d beneath his breath. “He’ll probably be scared around other dogs for a while if he was abused. Ease him in carefully, yeah? There’s a dog park two blocks down—s’not very busy around this time,” he told him. 

“Thank you.”

Zayn smiled at him, patting Harry on the shoulder, hand resting there for a beat before he slipped back into his flat.

Harry could still feel his cheeks flushing when he got to the dog park.

 

+

 

Zayn wasn’t wrong, not by a long shot. Bucky was petrified around other dogs, taking to hiding behind Harry’s legs. And it didn’t help that the dog park _was_ busy. Well, maybe Harry wasn’t the best judge of character in regards to its occupants, but he _did_ know that there was a group of housewives on one side giving him the glad eye as he tried to convince Bucky that going to the bathroom outside was a _good idea._

(Harry was _so_ far out of his comfort zone.)

It was another two weeks before Harry saw Zayn again, letting another random guy out of his flat, ducking the goodbye kiss when he made eye contact with Harry in favor of a clumsy pat on the back and a rushed goodbye. 

“Sorry,” Harry found himself muttering again, cheeks red as he fumbled with the keys for his flat, cursing when he dropped them and Bucky immediately started chewing at his keychain. “C’mon, Buck,” he muttered, gently tugging the keys from the pup’s mouth, trying to ignore the sad little look he was shot.

“Nah, I gotta stop making a habit of that, yeah?” Zayn said with a self-deprecating little shrug. “Kinda makes me look like a slag.”

“I don’t think so,” Harry said quickly. “You’re an adult; you can make your own choices.”

Zayn smiled softly, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck.

Harry swallowed, looking away quickly when the black tank top rode up a little bit, exposing a tattooed hip and—yeah, he didn’t need _that._

“How’s he doing? Does he like the dog park?” he asked, walking down the hall to sit on the floor in front of Bucky and patting at his thighs. 

Harry watched in awe as Bucky jumped onto Zayn’s lap with a happy little bark, nuzzling into his chest. “Dogs _do_ love you,” he whispered, impressed by how quickly Bucky had taken to Zayn when it had taken nearly three weeks for Bucky to even sleep next to Harry. 

Zayn didn’t say anything; he just sent Harry a crinkly-eyed smile. 

“But, erm, no, he doesn’t like the dog park—not really. I think he, like, knows that I don’t like it on some level?” Harry said with a shrug. “But he’s alright. I just have to potty train him. And it’s not easy.”

“Nah, that’s the hardest part,” Zayn agreed. “It’ll take some time, but I’m sure you can do it.”

“I hope so. At least he poops outside now, yeah? S’nice to not have to clean that up,” Harry said, turning to unlock his door.

“Why don’t you like the dog park? Did you go to the one I told you to? Never go to the one down by the pubs, yeah? So many little yappy pups and—“ Zayn cut himself off. “I’m kind of a dog snob. I only like bigger dogs,” he admitted.

Harry laughed, reaching up to push his curls out of his face. “I’ve always had cats, so this is a change of pace,” he told him with a shrug. “And the park is…nice. It’s big. It’s…the housewives.”

“Ah,” Zayn said with a nod. “Yeah, m’sure they were all over you.”

Harry pouted. 

“Can’t blame ‘em, though,” he added with a quirk of his lips. “Try going after nine next time.”

“That’s so late—“

Zayn’s eyebrows rose.

“I—I get up early. I’m interning at a law firm,” he said quietly. 

“You won’t regret going later,” Zayn told him. “Just try it, yeah? On a night you don’t have to get up early, grandpa,” he teased with a wink.

Harry felt his cheeks flush as Zayn stood up, their shoulders brushing before he disappeared back into his flat, and Harry was left wondering what _exactly_ had just happened. 

 

+

 

Harry told himself the next time he went to the dog park, that it wasn’t because of Zayn; he actively denied staying up later than normal and dragging on a pair of skinny jeans and his brown boots at nine at night just to take Bucky out. And, alright, nine wasn’t late by any means, but Harry normally was in bed by then since he had to get up at five in order to get ready for work, so— _late._

Bucky, on the other hand, was _excited._ He was turning around and pulling at his own leash when the dog park came into sight, something that Harry had never seen him do. Harry couldn’t help but laugh a little as Bucky tried to speed up, tripping over his little legs as they finally got into the dog park. Harry let out a sigh of relief when he saw it was nearly empty, save for one other person that he instantly recognized as Zayn. 

Harry knelt down and unhooked Bucky’s leash, figuring the park was fenced in and it would do the pup some good to run around a little bit. He rolled the leash around his arm, sticking his hands in his pockets, and he watched as Bucky sniffed the ground around his feet before barking up at him and running off in the direction of Zayn. Harry kept up easily, holding back a laugh as he saw Bucky run over to the pit bull, looking up at him with big blue eyes; the pit bull looked at Bucky for a minute before leaning in and sniffing him, jerking back when Bucky reached up and tapped at his nose. 

“Getting over the fear of other dogs quickly?” Zayn asked without turning around, eyes still fixated on the dogs. 

“Think yours is an exception,” Harry admitted, stepping up to Zayn’s side and watching as Bucky rolled over onto his back.

“Bruce can get along with anyone,” Zayn shrugged, reaching up behind his ear for his fag and lighting it up. “You’re out late.”

Harry nodded slowly. “Figured I would give it a try. It’s worth it to be a little tired if Bucky has a good time.”

Zayn laughed, blowing the smoke out of the side of his mouth in the opposite direction of Harry. “Please tell me you named your dog after Bucky Barnes.”

Harry flushed, looking down at his feet. “Maybe,” he admitted, eyes widening when Zayn’s dog leaned down and nosed at Bucky’s belly before rolling over next to him. 

“I named mine after Bruce Wayne,” Zayn told him with a grin, leaning over and nudging their shoulders together. “S’cute, don’t be embarrassed.”

“M’not,” Harry lied before kneeling down and picking up a stick, waving it in front of Bucky. Bruce shot up immediately, watching the stick intently, and Bucky just cocked his head to the side, confused and interested. Harry tossed the stick behind the pups, not too far, and stood up again as both Bucky and Bruce ran after it. “I’m scared I don’t know how to raise a dog and that Bucky’s going to, like, hate me. Or grow up to be an arsehole,” he admitted softly. 

“That was me and Bruce when I got him two years ago,” Zayn told him. “I’d always raised dogs with my baba, and this was the first time I was doing it on my own.”

“I think you did a good job. Bucky likes him. Bucky’s a good judge of character,” Harry decided with a nod, watching as Bucky rolled over onto the stick, barking up at Bruce. 

Zayn laughed. “Well, I think you’ll do fine,” he said with a shrug. “And you can always ask me if you have a question.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, looking over at him with wide eyes. 

“Yeah. I mean, our dogs are friends; we might as well be.”

Harry went to smile but yawned instead, trying to hide it behind his arm. “Sorry.”

Zayn waved him off, taking another drag off of his fag before stomping it out on the ground and whistling for Bruce. “S’getting late for you, innit?”

“A little,” he admitted with a laugh, pulling out his mobile and checking the time to see that it was nearly ten. 

“Gotta get up all early for your proper job?” Zayn teased, reaching down to scratch at Bruce’s ears. 

“Yeah,” Harry said with a nod, smiling as Bucky ran over to him, stopping at his feet to bark up at him. Harry put his leash back on and scratched at his chin. “We’re gonna get headed back.”

“I’ll go with you. I gotta get ready for work anyway.”

“What do you do?” he asked. “Sorry if that’s too personal.”

Zayn laughed. “It’s hardly too personal. You’ve caught me snogging how many lads in the hallway, again?” he asked.

Harry flushed and was thankful that it was already dark out so that Zayn couldn’t see. “Only two.”

“I’m a tattoo artist,” Zayn told him as they walked out of the park and back towards their building, Bucky between their feet and Bruce leading the way. 

“Do you like it?”

“Now _that’s_ too personal,” Zayn said. “But yeah, I love it. It’s this little shop with my mate, Louis, who’s shit at art but a sick tattoo artist. We’re open most of the night to accommodate the drunks and the burn outs,” he told him with a shrug. “Nothing quite as proper as your law firm job.”

Harry’s cheeks flushed again; he didn’t know how Zayn could say something so simple and cause that sort of reaction, he didn’t _understand._ He didn’t understand how his body felt on fire every time he was around Zayn, except—well, he kind of _did._ He understood that feeling of a crush developing and knew that he was already too far gone, knew from the first time he talked to Zayn that he was the type of lad Harry fell hard for. But he also figured Zayn wasn’t exactly the type for a relationship, or maybe Harry just wasn’t his type, because he didn’t exactly see it going anywhere—but, hell, he sure liked to _look_ at Zayn. 

“Gonna make some missus very happy with that paycheck one day,” Zayn mused in a weird tone.

“Doubtful,” Harry said with a scoff as they approached their building, walking up the steps and sending Zayn a thankful smile when he opened the door for him. 

“Why’s that?”

“There’s not much money in human rights; that’s the field I want to go into,” Harry told him as he approached the door to his flat. “And I like boys,” he added in a rush, fiddling to get his keys out of his pocket and unlock the door before turning around shyly. 

“Oh,” Zayn said slowly, nodding, “that’s an interesting field.”

Harry shrugged.

“You should get some sleep,” Zayn told him, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, opening the door to his flat and letting Bucky run inside, his leash trailing behind him. “I’m gonna need, like, the biggest coffee ever in the morning,” he told him with a laugh, “especially since my coffee maker broke.”

“That’s shit,” Zayn said with a frown. “Not that your coffee maker broke, but that you like coffee.”

Harry laughed. “Is it now? You a tea snob?”

Zayn groaned. “I have to be; my mate, Louis, is the biggest tea snob around. _And_ the biggest snob,” he added with a grin. 

“Well,” he started with a smile, “I need coffee to get through the day.”

“Can’t blame ya there,” Zayn told him. “Sleep well, Harry.”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek to hold back a smile. “Have fun at work, Zayn.”

 

+

 

Harry wasn’t expecting a sharp knock on his door at half-six in the morning, the sound causing Bucky to jump up and bark his little heart out, running over to the door. Harry frowned as he buttoned his jeans, the only thing he had bothered to put on so far because he was just _tired._ He made his way to the door, opening it without checking to see who it was, and took a step back when he saw Zayn leaning against the doorway with a cup of coffee in hand.

“Morning.”

Harry looked down at the coffee and back up to Zayn. “Good…morning.”

Zayn gave Harry an once-over, taking in his long legs and tattooed arms, nodding appreciatively. “Casual Friday?”

Harry flushed, laughing softly. “Erm, kind of, yeah? The bosses let us wear jeans if we donate a few quid on Fridays,” he said with a shrug.

Zayn handed Harry the cup with a small smile. “Figured you might need this. Granted, I don’t know how you take it, but I figured sugar was a good choice.”

“Thank you,” Harry said softly, taking a small drink, his eyes drifting shut. “Amazing.”

Zayn grinned and leaned down, letting Bucky sniff his hands before scooping him up in his arms and scratching at his ears. 

Harry bit at his lip as Zayn eyed him, a look he couldn’t place. “Thank you.”

Zayn shrugged. “No problem. How late do you work tonight?”

“Usually six.”

“Louis and I are going out for pints at seven. You should join us,” he offered.

Harry sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah, Niall and I usually do something on Fridays…”

“Boyfriend?” Zayn asked with a quirk of his brow.

Harry smiled, shaking his head. “Best mate. We hooked up enough in uni. We’re kind of over that phase now,” he admitted. 

“Bring him along,” Zayn told him.

“I’ll ask,” Harry promised. “I should…” he said, pointing over his shoulder. 

“Put a shirt on?”

Harry nodded.

“Pity,” Zayn muttered.

Harry flushed, looking down. “I gotta take Bucky out before I leave anyway—“

“I could watch him for the day, if you wanted,” he offered. “He could chill with Bruce, see how they get along. It’s good for dogs to get socialized and burn off some energy.”

“You don’t have to do that, Zayn,” Harry told him. “That’s so nice but—“

“Just an offer, I don’t mind,” Zayn interrupted. “It’s up to you.”

Harry pursed his lips, looking down at where Bucky was panting up at Zayn with big eyes. “You—You’re sure you wouldn’t mind? I worry about leaving him alone all day; I know it’s not fair to him—“

Zayn laughed softly. “I don’t mind. I’m just gonna sleep and sketch a little bit.”

“That would be wonderful, Zayn, thank you—“

“On one condition.”

Harry sighed heavily, taking another drink of his coffee. “I’m all ears.”

“You gotta join us for pints tonight.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Zayn,” he said with a smile. ”I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

Harry leaned in and pressed is lips to Bucky’s ear. “Be a good boy for Zayn, yeah?”

Bucky let out a little bark, licking at Harry’s face. 

“Thank you.”

Zayn shrugged. “Not a big deal, Harry,” he told him, walking down the hall to his flat. “I’ll take good care of him. And make sure you wear those jeans tonight,” he said, sending Harry a grin over his shoulder before ducking into his flat. 

 

+

 

It was halfway through his work day when Harry realized that he didn’t even have Zayn’s number and, therefore, had no way of checking on Bucky to see how he was doing. He told himself not to panic, that Zayn had clearly looked after animals for years, that if Zayn could keep his own dog alive, he could take care of Harry’s puppy for one day without a problem—it was _fine,_ really, until Niall asked how it was—

“How’s Bucky been? I miss the little guy.”

Harry pouted as Niall stole some chips from his tray; the law firm he worked at was on the tenth floor of a business building that lodged a cafeteria on the main floor, and that was where Niall and Harry met nearly every day for lunch. 

“What happened?” Niall asked.

Harry shrugged, sitting back in his chair and sighing. “My neighbor is watching him.”

“Hot neighbor? Zeke? Zack? Z—“

“Zayn,” Harry interrupted. “He has Bucky.”

“Did he kidnap Bucky? Do I need to fight him?” Niall asked, picking at Harry’s tray. “Are you even going to eat?”

Harry pushed the tray across the table, letting Niall eat what he wasn’t going to. “No, he—“ he trailed off. “He brought me coffee. He works all night or whatever, and we were at the dog park late—“

Niall interrupted with a laugh and a waggle of his eyebrows. “Oh, were you?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s less crowded,” he said defensively. “And there are less housewives giving me bedroom eyes.”

“Well, you _are_ a pretty little thing,” Niall teased.

“ _Anyway,_ ” Harry stressed with another roll of his eyes, “he brought me coffee, offered to watch Bucky for the day so he could socialize with Bruce.”

“Who the hell is Bruce?”

“Zayn’s pit bull.”

Niall blinked. “You’re letting your three month old Husky puppy make friends with a pit bull?”

“Bruce loves him!” Harry insisted with wide eyes. “Plays with him at the park and everything. He’s the only dog that Bucky isn’t afraid of. And I, for one, think it’ll do a lot of good. Bucky needs friends.”

Niall nodded slowly, lips pursed. “And you do realize Bucky is a dog and not a person?”

Harry balled up one of his napkins and tossed it at Niall’s head, knowing full well it wouldn’t faze him at all. “I’m quite aware of that, Niall, but thanks for the reminder.”

“As long as you trust him—“

“I think he wants to fuck me,” Harry said loudly to ensure he was heard over Niall’s rambling, causing the blonde to just stare at him for a moment. “What?” he asked innocently, looking around to see a couple of his coworkers staring at him.

Niall laughed loudly, cheeks going red as he doubled over in laughter.

Harry sat back with a pout, watching and waiting until Niall calmed down, watching as he wiped at his eyes dramatically, before fixing Harry with a smile. “Are you finished?”

“That was amazing,” Niall said, shaking his head. “Sorry, where were we?”

“You were just laughing at the thought of someone wanting to have sex with me,” Harry muttered dryly.

Niall rolled his eyes. “Please, Haz, I’ve fucked you more than anyone else—“

“ _Hey—_ “

“I was laughing because you look overly…perturbed about it.”

“Perturbed?” 

Niall shrugged. “I read.”

Harry sighed. “I just… I _think_ he does? He just…looked at me this morning like…”

“Like he wanted to fuck you?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded.

“Do you want him to fuck you?”

Harry blinked quickly for a moment and nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted with another shrug. “Maybe I need a second opinion.”

“On whether or not you should fuck him?”

“No, on whether or not he wants to fuck me.”

Niall shook his head. “You’ve lost it, mate.”

“No, you’ll be able to tell me later, yeah? We’re going out for drinks with him and one of his mates tonight,” Harry informed him easily with a bright smile. 

Niall shrugged. “Sure. I’m always up for pints.”

Harry had never been more thankful for Niall’s easy-going attitude and how he didn’t question the little things and just went with the flow. “I’ll text you when I know more, yeah?” he said, standing up and stuffing his mobile into his pocket. “He told me to wear these jeans. Should I?”

“Do you want him to fuck you?”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Because if you do, then wear them,” Niall said with a shrug. “If he doesn’t fuck you tonight, I’ll do it, Haz. I’ll take one for the team.”

“Wouldn’t I be the one _taking_ one for the team?” he asked.

Niall rolled his eyes, a fond little smile on his face. “S’no wonder ya haven’t gotten laid in months if you’re tellin’ jokes like that.”

“You love my jokes.”

 

+

 

_Bucky’s chilling with Bruce in my flat; seems like they’re best of buds now.  
Meet me at The Lion’s Den at seven. _

_\- z_

_p.s. you better be wearing those jeans…_

Harry flushed as he tore the note off of the door to his flat and snuck inside. It felt weird to not have Bucky run over to him, not hear his little bark, but he knew he would be back later that night. He set the note down on the counter in the kitchen and went back to his bedroom, deciding to shower quickly before he had to leave and meet Zayn. He texted Niall where they were going to meet before getting a shower; once he was clean and sure he smelled really, really good, he struggled to slide into his tight jeans again before pulling on a sheer black button up. 

It took him way too long to fix his hair, causing him to run a few minutes late, and he ran into Niall right outside the pub, nearly knocking him over.

“What the—“ Niall rolled his eyes and reached for Harry’s shirt, pulling him forward and unbuttoning the top couple of buttons. “I don’t know how you dress yourself in the morning.”

“It’s nighttime,” Harry protested with a pout. 

Niall rolled his eyes. “C’mon, I wanna meet your mysterious hot neighbor, even if this is the shittiest pub around.”

“That’s only because you got kicked out twice,” Harry said with a cheeky smile, grabbing Niall’s elbow and leading him into the pub. He couldn’t even blame it on the size of the pub since, well, it wasn’t small, but he was able to find Zayn nearly right away, huddled in the back corner, his white Henley tight across his broad shoulders and standing out against the black of the pub wall. Harry swallowed as Zayn caught his eye, lifting a hand in a little wave, and Harry forced a smile.

“That him?” Niall asked, elbowing Harry in the side and sending Zayn a wave. 

“Yeah—“

“Let’s go,” he said, nudging at Harry before walking back towards the table where Zayn was sitting with his mate. 

“Real subtle, Ni,” Harry grumbled, following after him slowly. 

“Wasn’t trying to be,” Niall replied, sending him a grin over his shoulder as he approached the table. “Hi, you must be Zayn!” he greeted, sticking out his hand.

The corner of Zayn’s lips quirked upwards as he reached out to shake his hand, nodding. “That I am. This is my mate, Louis,” he said, pointing to the man across the table with bright blue eyes, a snapback backwards over his head.

“I’m Niall, great to meet you lads,” he said, jumping up onto the chair next to Louis before looking over at Harry who was lingering by the table.

“Hi,” Harry said quietly, drawing it out in a way that had Zayn full on smiling, resting his chin on his hand to look up at him. “How’s Bucky?”

“Brilliant,” Zayn assured him. “He’s probably sleeping with Bruce right now.”

“What a lazy bag of bones,” Harry said with a bit of a laugh, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Zayn smiled up at him. “How was work?”

Harry shrugged. “It was alright.”

“Sorry you didn’t get a lot of sleep,” Zayn said, still grinning in a way that suggested he wasn’t sorry _at all._

Louis groaned, rolling his eyes. “If you both are done eye fucking each other, I would really like to order some chips. That is, if Harold here is actually going to sit down,” he snapped, reaching for his pint and taking a drink 

“Oh, sorry,” Harry mumbled, taking a deep breath before sitting down in the only free seat next to Zayn, who almost instantly reached over to rest a hand on Harry’s thigh. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Zayn grinned, squeezing Harry’s thigh and leaning in next to his ear. “You look amazing.”

Harry flushed, watching as Zayn’s eyes dipped down his chest to where his shirt was unbuttoned, the ink of his sparrows peaking through. “Hi,” he repeated, his eyes widening as he realized what he said, and he shook his head. “Shit, no, I mean—I just—thank you,” he stuttered. 

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Louis muttered, taking a long drink from his glass. 

“Don’t be so bitter, Lou,” Zayn said with a teasing smile, sliding his hand off of Harry’s thigh and around the back of his seat, fingertips pressing against his shoulder. 

“Why would I be bitter?” Louis asked with a grin. “It’s just as easy for me to pull someone as eager as young Harold here.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. 

“I’m just Harry, actually,” he corrected, instinctively settling back against Zayn’s arm when he felt fingertips curl around his shoulder. 

Louis looked over at Niall with a bored expression. “He corrects the name but not how eager he is. Interesting.”

Niall laughed, catching Harry’s eye and sending him a wink. “I think we’re in desperate need of shots.”

“Some of us have to work later, Ireland,” Louis quipped, slouching down in his seat. 

Niall shrugged. “Not me,” he said, waving down their waiter and ordering a round of shots.

Harry looked up at Zayn from under his eyelashes. “What about you?”

“Nah, not me; I got the night off,” Zayn told him, fingertips slowly sliding across his shoulder in a way that made Harry’s breath hitch.

“Bet the night’s not the only thing he wants to get off,” Niall whispered not-so-subtly to Louis.

Louis burst out laughing, a hand slapping down on Niall’s shoulder. “I love this lad. Where did you find him?”

Zayn narrowed his eyes at Louis before looking back over to Harry with a smile just as the waiter delivered shots to the table. He picked up one and handed it to Harry before reaching for his own, clinking them together. “Bottom’s up.”

 

+

 

Harry wasn’t drunk, but he was buzzed enough to where he wasn’t second-guessing every little thing that happened. Two or three hours later, Harry wasn’t sure, he was leaning back against Zayn’s chest, tracing the ink spread across Zayn’s wrist as he and Louis argued about some comic book that Harry didn’t care about at all. And Niall was sitting there laughing, interjecting his opinion just to rile Louis up like they had been the best of friends for years. 

Harry mindlessly listened to Louis and Niall arguing, fingers twisted with Zayn’s, and he reached forward for his mixed drink, something fruity and delicious that Niall had insisted upon because Niall always chose Harry’s drinks for him—something about being Irish and just _knowing_ alcohol better than anyone else. 

“C’mon, Ireland, we _all_ know that if it was actually Batman versus Superman, Superman would win,” Louis stated.

“Says the man who would suck Batman’s dick in less than a second,” Zayn interjected, taking Harry’s glass from him and taking a drink.

“My desire to fuck Christian Bale is not what’s up for debate here, Zayn,” Louis told him. “Superman can _fly_ and Batman—“

“Batman would, like, find a way to fly, alright? He’s a billionaire. If anyone can figure it out, it’s Bruce Wayne,” Niall said with a shrug.

Louis scoffed. “That’s a bunch of shit.”

Zayn set the glass back on the table, his hand falling down to rest on Harry’s thigh, mindlessly rubbing against the seam of his jeans. 

Harry bit his lower lip as he slouched a little bit in the seat, reaching for Zayn’s hand and flattening it out, sliding it up his thigh just a little bit, because he just wanted _more._ He looked up at Zayn, who was nodding along to whatever Louis and Niall were talking about, and he pouted. He didn’t know if it was the relatively minor amount of alcohol in his system, but he didn’t want Zayn paying attention to someone else—he wanted Zayn to pay attention to _him._ Harry slid his fingertips over Zayn’s knuckles before sliding his hand up just a little bit more, his thumb barely pressing against the line of his cock, half-hard beneath his jeans. 

Zayn jolted a little bit, meeting Harry’s eyes, his mouth falling open as if he was going to say something, but he stopped himself. He met Harry’s eyes, instinctively licking his lips as Harry stared up at him, moving his hand until he was cupping his cock through his jeans. Zayn swallowed, fingers curving around him, and the corner of his lips tilted upwards when he saw the way Harry’s cheeks flushed. He could barely hear Niall and Louis talking across from him; he really didn’t _care_ about what they were saying anyway. And he leaned in, tempted to kiss him right then and there, but he stopped, their lips millimeters apart; he smiled when Harry tried to close the gap and he pulled back, just a little. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered, lips barely brushing as he spoke. 

Harry nodded, a weak little sound leaving his lips. “Yeah,” he agreed breathlessly, allowing Zayn to pull him up from the chair, steadying him so he didn’t sway.

“Ugh, please,” Louis groaned. “God, you’re disgusting. I’ll pay for your drinks. Just get out of here before you bend poor Harold over the table in front of all these people.”

“Doubt he’d care,” Niall said with a laugh.

“Hey,” Harry pouted, drawing it out as he fixed Niall with a frown.

Zayn grinned, pressing his lips to the side of Harry’s neck. “Something to explore the next time,” he promised, sliding a hand around his back and into the back pocket of his jeans. “Let’s go.”

 

+

 

Harry found it more than a little difficult to concentrate on opened the door to his flat when Zayn’s hands were everywhere, trailing from his hips to palm over his cock, squeezing him through the fabric of his jeans, and back up to his waist. He shoved the door open as Zayn mouthed at the side of his neck, leading him into the flat and kicking the door shut behind him. 

Zayn pinned Harry up against the door as their lips finally met, a constant tease from the remainder of the evening at the bar and the four-block walk home. Harry couldn’t even define the sound that left his mouth as Zayn slid a leg between Harry’s thigh, his tongue between his lips. Harry was positive his hands were shaking as he threaded his fingers through Zayn’s thick hair, a little stiff with product but softer than he would’ve thought. 

Harry whimpered when Zayn pulled away, lips trailing down the side of his neck and hands reaching for the zip of his jeans. “Fuck—“

“Not yet,” Zayn quipped, sliding his hands into the back of Harry’s jeans to cup his arse, pulling him in for a hot, open-mouthed kiss that was more a messy slide of tongue than anything else. “Where’s your room?”

“Down the hall.”

“Mmm,” Zayn moaned, lips moving against the side of Harry’s neck, fingers slipping between Harry’s cheeks, the pad of his thumb brushing against his hole, and Harry jerked. Zayn pulled back just in time to see Harry’s cheeks flush, his eyes slipping shut, and Zayn barely pressed his thumb in, just enough to elicit a needy little whimper from Harry’s lips again. “Would you let me fuck you right here? Turn you around and get your jeans down just enough to fuck you open until you’re begging me to let you come?”

Harry practically keened beneath his touch, lips parting as he panted, rocking his hips down just a little bit, eager for more. “Yeah,” he whispered, “if ya wanted to.”

Zayn smiled, pressing his thumb in to the knuckle, dry and uncomfortable yet Harry still wanted _more._ “You’re desperate for it, fuck, aren’t you?” he whispered in awe as Harry nodded, curls falling into his face, no longer embarrassed, a quiet little _yeah_ escaping his lips. Zayn’s smile only widened as he pulled his hand from Harry’s jeans and cupped his jaw, pulling him in for a quick kiss before reaching for his hand, and pulling him down the hallway and towards his bedroom.

 

+

 

Harry wasn’t sure what jolted him awake a few hours later; it wasn’t the heavy arm around his waist or the ruffling of the curls at the back of his neck with every breath Zayn exhaled, no. It was— He didn’t _know._ He slinked out from under Zayn’s arm, not surprised when he didn’t move or make any sound at all, and he fumbled around in the dark until he found a pair of pants, pulling them over his legs, and he was pretty sure they were Zayn’s but— It didn’t matter, because his stomach was sinking a little bit, and he realized why— Bucky. 

He glanced at the clock to see it was barely five in the morning, the sunlight barely peaking through the curtains, just enough for Harry to make out where Zayn’s jeans were and to dig through the pockets for his keys. He looked over his shoulder to see Zayn clutching the pillow, the blanket pooled around his slim waist, and he quietly slipped out of the room and out of his flat, making his way to Zayn’s door. 

He unlocked it and stepped inside, pausing for a moment, because no matter what had happened hours before, he still felt like he was _intruding._ He didn’t have long to dwell on that, though, because Bucky was instantly at his feet, barking happily and jumping against him, and Harry smiled, making his way over to Zayn’s couch and sinking down, pulling Bucky onto his lap and letting the pup lick at his face. 

Harry laughed as he scratched at Bucky’s ears, his smile only widening when he saw Bruce padding across the room lazily before plopping down over Harry’s feet and falling back asleep. He let Bucky lick his face for a minute before the pup settled down, curling into a ball on Harry’s lap, using his knee as a pillow and falling asleep. Harry used that time to glance around Zayn’s flat, not surprised to see the walls covered in graffiti and the kitchen sink piled high with dirty dishes, countless shirts and paintbrushes flung across the living room, and everything looked so _lived in_ and so _Zayn._ Harry didn’t even notice when the door of the flat opened until he felt Zayn climb on the couch next to him, his shirtless chest pressed against his side. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Zayn asked, voice low and gruff, quiet against his neck. 

“Missed him,” Harry whispered, leaning into Zayn’s chest. 

Zayn reached around Harry to scratch at Bucky’s ears before giving Bruce the same treatment. “Thought you’d run off. Bed was cold without you.”

Harry shook his head, turning to look over at Zayn. “M’not running off.”

“Good,” Zayn settled on after a beat, nuzzling Harry’s neck before pressing his lips against the side, against a bruise he had left the night before, smiling against Harry’s skin when he felt the younger boy relax against him. “Because I don’t want last night to be a one time thing, yeah?”

Harry shifted, trying to turn around to face him, but couldn’t with a lap full of Bucky. “Me neither.”

Zayn grinned, reaching over to pluck Bucky off of Harry’s lap and set him down on the carpet next to Bruce; the pup made a soft sound of protest before climbing on top of Bruce, who acted like he didn’t notice, and falling back asleep. Zayn wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and lay down on the couch, pulling Harry on top of him, sliding his hands from his waist to his arse. 

Harry smiled as he pressed their lips together, laughing softly when he realized Zayn had gotten up to smoke a fag _before_ coming to find him, but the taste of smoke wasn’t unpleasant, it was just…something very Zayn-like. 

Zayn slid his hands underneath the fabric of Harry’s pants, gripping at his arse and causing the younger boy to let out a quiet moan, grinding down shamelessly against him. 

“Zayn,” he whimpered, rutting against him, his cock half-hard and filling up beneath his pants. 

“Yeah?” Zayn asked, running his fingertips against Harry’s hole, still slick and a little open, and he couldn’t even pretend that he wasn’t ready for another round. 

“C’mon,” he insisted, hips bucking. 

Zayn smiled as he rubbed against Harry’s hole, fingers barely dipping inside. “C’mon, want you to ride me, yeah?”

Harry nodded breathlessly, helping Zayn slide the fabric of his pants down his legs, kicking them aside. He fumbled with Zayn’s, getting them down just enough to get his cock out, before straddling his hips. 

“Wait, fuck, Harry,” Zayn said, arm flinging behind himself to reach for the drawer of the table by the couch, fumbling around before his fingers found the little bottle of lube he kept stored there—just in case.

Harry groaned, rocking down against Zayn’s cock, the head fitting against his hole, and he _wanted._ “Hurry up,” he panted.

Zayn half-heartedly slapped Harry’s thigh. “Don’t be greedy,” he said with a grin, drizzling some lube against his cock, hissing when Harry reached for him, fisting him quickly, spreading the lube around for him. 

“M’not greedy,” Harry insisted, gripping the base of Zayn’s cock and fitting it between his cheeks, rocking down against it.

Zayn sucked in a deep breath as Harry sank down on his cock, hands digging into the soft skin of his hips as he bottomed out, not giving himself time to adjust. A curse was on his lips as Harry grunted, wiggling his hips a little in an effort to take more, to take Zayn deeper. Zayn planted his feet on the couch and thrust upwards, jolting Harry and causing him to fall forward, chest pressed against Zayn’s.

Harry smiled lazily; his cheeks flushed a pretty pink as Zayn fucked into him, the elastic and fabric of his pants scratching at the back of Harry’s thighs with each thrust. Harry pressed his lips to the center of Zayn’s chest, ghosting over his nipple as he pushed himself off of Zayn in order to grind back against him. Zayn’s hands on his hips were the only thing steadying him as he lifted himself up, slamming back down, and repeating the action, letting out quiet little gasps each time the flared head of Zayn’s cock hit that little bundle of nerves deep inside of him.

“Fuck, c’mon, Haz,” he grunted, holding him in place as he fucked up into him, Harry’s rhythm falling off. And Zayn could tell that he was close, could tell by the way his stomach tightened up and the way his thighs shook, remembered from the night before when he had Harry sprawled across his bed, hands grasping his headboard as Zayn fucked him through his second orgasm. But that had been different; that had been after hours of soft foreplay and two weeks of dancing around one another, and this—this was a slow build, something soft and steady and so worth the wait. Zayn fit his hand around Harry’s cock, palming and squeezing at the head, and Harry let out a choked off gasp as he came over Zayn’s fist, still trying to rock down against his cock, his movements slowing down. 

“Z—Zayn,” Harry panted as he felt Zayn’s hands back at his hips, holding him still; the constant pressure against his prostate was almost enough to get him hard again, if he really wanted it, and Zayn had proved the night before that he was capable of getting Harry off more than once, but this—this was good, this was _enough._ “C’mon, come in me—“

“Fuck,” he cursed, head falling back against the couch as he came, a sigh of Harry’s name leaving his lips, and it took a few minutes for his head to clear, for him to focus on the smiling boy who was curling up next to his side and a hot thigh draped across his stomach. 

“We’ve christened both of our flats now,” Harry said with a giggle, pressing a kiss to the side of Zayn’s neck. “And in less than six hours. Is that a record?”

Zayn smiled, running a hand over Harry’s curls and down his back. “Probably,” he mused, slipping a hand over Harry’s bum to stop at his thigh, where he was still a bit wet and sticky. “Fuck, put some pants on,” he groaned.

Harry grinned cheekily and looked up at Zayn. “Why should I? We both know they’re gonna come off soon anyway.”

“Is that so?” Zayn asked, quirking his brow in challenge.

“Mhmm,” Harry said with a nod, throwing his leg over Zayn’s waist and climbing on top of him again, their chests pressed together, lips millimeters apart. “You saying you don’t wanna fuck me again?” he asked, lips brushing as he questioned Zayn.

“Hmm,” Zayn swallowed, shifting his hips until his cock was nestled between Harry’s legs, and he could definitely go for another round—in a few minutes. “I guess I could,” he settled on with a shrug, one hand gripping Harry’s little bum and squeezing appreciatively. 

Harry grinned, kissing Zayn slowly, savoring the taste before he pulled away. “We should probably shower.”

“Probably,” Zayn agreed but he made no point to move.

Harry sat up slowly, wincing at the burn of his thighs and how he could feel a little bit of Zayn’s spunk trickle down the back of his thighs. He looked around the room and frowned. “Where did Bucky go?”

Zayn sat up, nearly knocking Harry over, and glanced around, looking down the hall to see his bedroom door had been nudged open, and he smiled. “Probably followed Bruce into my room. He’s got a lovely dog bed in there. Probably cost more than my shitty old mattress,” he told him.

Harry paused. “You think they watched us?”

Zayn laughed loudly, the sound nearly causing Harry to fall off of his lap. “I doubt it.”

“But what if they did?” Harry whispered. 

“Then I’m sure they didn’t,” Zayn assured him, pressing a reassuring kiss to Harry’s lips. 

“Do you wanna go christen the shower?” Harry asked instead, ignoring the previous topic because he had a naked Zayn under him and he was _preoccupied._

Zayn grinned. “What happened to the shy boy from the pub from last night?”

Harry lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Fucked that right out of me last night, remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Zayn assured him, pulling him in for another kiss. “Lead the way.”


End file.
